


Broken Logic

by august_anon



Series: Connected [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Ler!Virgil, Teasing, Ticklee Logic | Logan Sanders, Tickling, ticklish!logan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:13:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22560787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/august_anon/pseuds/august_anon
Summary: Logan had done enough ticklish "experiments" on the others to know that they would be ruthless in their revenge, but truly? He wasn't complaining. And he certainly wasn't complaining when he heard Virgil's threat to absolutely break him.Warning: This is a tickle fic!
Series: Connected [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623265
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	Broken Logic

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey! Sensey's (@fluffymary over on tumblr, and amazing artist, go check her out!) birthday is today! The prompt she gave me for her birthday fic was a continuation of a tickletober fic I wrote, which hopefully I've remembered to put in a series with this fic so you can find it, lol. I think it was the day for "hysterical" though? Enjoy!

Logan knew it was dangerous to agree to an experiment, after all the torturous experiments he had put the others through. Logically, he knew their revenge would not be swift and merciful. It would be cruel, ruthless torture.

But perhaps that’s what he wanted in the sort of mood he was in.

He had been feeling it for days. The itch to be tickled, to be teased, to laugh his lungs out. The longer it went on, the more the feeling morphed from “wanting to be tickled” to “desperately craving to be destroyed.”

Which led to his current situation.

Virgil having him tied down, performing an “experiment” of his own (Logan should have known that any tease he used against someone would affect him tenfold, but he was a foolish, foolish man that evidently had no sense of self-preservation).

It had started so simple. Virgil’s proposed experiment was to see what could make him hysterical. Considering how badly Logan wanted to be in hysterics, he found no issue with this. Then, Virgil had tortured him within an inch of his life, told him it was a  _ warm-up _ , and promptly shoved an electric toothbrush up into one of his two death spots: his toes.

Logan certainly went hysterical, tugging at his bonds as much as he could as he wheezed and cackled and fought the urge to beg for mercy from such a rich torture.

Because it was exactly what he wanted.

And then Virgil laughed and said, “Let’s start a new experiment: how long can Logan take this before he  _ breaks _ .” After another few maddening moments, Virgil pulled the electric toothbrush away and spoke more gently, “That is, if the subject is agreeable.”

Logan panted and tried to wipe away his tears of mirth with his shoulders. Virgil came up and wiped them away for him before cupping Logan’s cheek in his hand and letting him rest against it as he closed his eyes and caught his breath.

“The subject is  _ very _ agreeable,” Logan muttered in embarrassment after recovering slightly. “ _ If _ he gets some water and a little longer as a breather.”

Virgil’s face softened completely with a gentle smile as he conjured Logan some ice water to sip at to soothe his aching lungs and throat.

“Of course,” he said. “And we can always do that experiment another day, you’ve taken a lot already.”

Logan took a moment to think as he sipped the cool water through the straw. Yes, he  _ had _ taken a lot already. But alas, his lee mood persisted. He still had energy, somehow, and he still ached and craved to be destroyed in the best ways possible. He pulled away from the straw and squirmed in his bonds, face flushing and eyes not meeting Virgil’s.

“I want it now,” he whispered.

Virgil laughed and climbed up on the table, swinging his leg over Logan’s thighs to straddle him. “And you called  _ me _ a tickle addict.”

Logan’s blush deepened and he tried to hide his face in his bicep.

“Ah-ah-ah,” sang Virgil. “No hiding. You hide and there’s no tickles.”

Logan whined and fought against himself to bring his face back into view. “I hate you.”

Virgil gasped. “You  _ hate _ me? Here I am, being so gracious as to give your ticklish little body  _ all _ the tickles it craves, and you say you  _ hate _ me?”

Logan pouted, eyes flicking up to see Virgil’s patented yet rare “ler smirk,” before they immediately shot away again, not being able to take that look centered on him.

“Just  _ do _ it already,” he muttered.

“Not so fast. You see, part of the  _ ‘breaking’ _ process with you is teasing. A  _ large _ part. I need to get you sufficiently flustered and worked up before the breaking of our dear Logic can happen.”

“Well maybe I already  _ am _ !”

Virgil examined him, his beet-red face and extremities pulling at their cuffs. “Not sure if I believe you…”

Logan just pursed his lips and looked away.

“What do you think could  _ ever _ break Logan Sanders, though? What combination of torture would just make him  _ snap _ ?”

Logan didn’t answer. He knew the question was probably rhetorical, anyway.

“I do want to keep using  _ this _ ,” Virgil said, pointedly wiggling the electric toothbrush still in his hand. “Tell me, how does it feel  _ here _ ?”

And Virgil turned the tool back on and shoved it deep into Logan’s armpit. He shrieked, both in laughter and discomfort.

“Too rough!” He called through his belly laughs. “Too rough!!”

Virgil immediately pulled it away, biting his lip and furrowing his brows. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Logan giggled out. “Not hurt, just definitely not comfortable.”

Virgil hummed, looking around the room Logan used for his “experiments.” He lit up when his gaze landed on something out of Logan’s eyesight, hopping off Logan and the table to go retrieve it. Logan craned his neck, but Virgil hid his hand behind his back as he approached. He climbed back into the table (awkwardly, with how his one hand was occupied and hidden) and settled back on top of Logan.

“Alright, two options, L,” he said gleefully.

Logan eyed his hidden hand carefully. “And what might those be?”

Virgil pulled the hand out from behind his back. He had his fingers wrapped around the necks of two bottles: a bottle of lotion and a bottle of massage oil. Logan’s eyes widened and he gulped.

Virgil wiggled his hand tauntingly, waving the two bottles around. “What’ll it be,  _ subject _ ?”

Logan closed his eyes and leaned his head back so he wouldn’t have to see Virgil’s taunting smirk or the tools of his doom in front of his eyes. He tried to dig deep down, past his lee mood and flustered and frantic thoughts, back down to his rational way of thinking. Which option would be best for his  _ comfort _ .

“Oil,” he forced out through gritted teeth. “I think the lotion would absorb into my skin and the discomfort from the rough bristles would return.”

He opened his eyes as Virgil’s smirk widened. “You think you’ll last that long?” He teased, tossing the lotion back to a nearby surface. “Whatever you say, L.”

Then came the hard part: actually getting the oil  _ on _ him. Virgil stares at the bottle, then his hand, frown on his face, as if contemplating if it was the best choice to use that method of application. Then he grinned, all teeth and evil energy, and retrieved a large brush.

Logan took a deep breath, then gasped as the cool oil hit his skin as Virgil poured it out.

“You’re supposed to warm it by rubbing it between your hands!” He yelped.

“Aw, you can warm it for me with that glowing blush of yours. It’s practically a heat lamp, I can feel it from here!”

Logan started to grumble, but it was quickly cut off by a high pitched squeal and Virgil started spreading the oil across his torso with the large paintbrush. He toppled into giggles, squirming side to side and instantly regretting all of the life choices that led him to this point.

“Aww,” Virgil gave him a faux-pout, “is it too much for the big, bad brainiac already?”

“No,” Logan managed to force out, shifting into deeper laughter as Virgil targeted his hips.

Virgil poured more of the oil in each of his armpits and painstakingly took his time brushing it across the skin. He grinned as Logan squealed and laughed and let out pleas for mercy that he didn’t really mean.

“I’m just trying to get an even coat! We wouldn’t want it running all over the place after all. All those little  _ drips _ , itchy and ticklish as they  _ trail _ down your skin  _ slowly _ . It would be terrible!”

“Stop being good at this!” Logan shrieked.

Virgil grinned. “No.”

He did, however, move on to Logan’s feet. He spread it all over his soles, leading to laughter and Logan scrunching them as best he could. Then he paid  _ special  _ attention to Logan’s toes, leaving Logan absolutely wheezing with his cackles. The moment he decided he was done, he was instantly back on top of Logan with a cheeky grin.

“So I have a plan. But first, tell me how this feels.”

Virgil once again pulled the electric toothbrush up out of nowhere, switched it on, and shoved it deep into his armpit. Logan shrieked and fell into deep guffaws. The bristles glided smoothly over his oiled his, the sensation even more ticklish than before.

“Still too rough?” Virgil asked, but he had an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips, so Logan was sure he already knew the answer.

“No, it’s okay,” he responded through his giggles anyway, once Virgil had pulled the took away.

“So, Logan,” Virgil purred. “How many of these bad boys you got?”

“I—I—well, we could—there’s—we can always conjure more.”

Virgil grinned at his sudden flustered stutter. “Oh, I suppose we could, couldn’t we? How many do you think you could take?”

Logan eyed Virgil’s hands. His  _ two _ hands. “How many do you think you can  _ use _ ?” He snarked.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

And Virgil didn’t even have to start tickling him for him to start regretting it. He watched as Virgil conjured a second electric toothbrush. Then a third. Then a fourth and a fifth and a sixth.

Virgil hopped off him and the table again to position the first two. He taped and tied them securely to Logan’s soles, positioning the bristles at specific sweet spots he’d discovered under Logan’s toes.

The next two were carefully secured to his upper arms, brushes pointed down and bristles settled into his armpits.

The last two, Virgil hesitated.

“Weird question, you’re allowed to say no. Can I stick the handles of these under the waistband of your shorts to hold them where I want them?”

Logan looked at the handles, then looked down at his legs. He nodded, not trusting his voice to remain steady with so many tools pointed so threateningly at him.

Virgil carefully and delicately slid the handles of the electric toothbrushes under his waistband. The bristles were positioned in the divots of his hips, the handles angled outwards towards his outer thighs.

Virgil then laid down on his side at Logan’s side and grinned evilly. “I know the whole cocky ‘conjuring and snapping fingers’ thing is more of Roman’s vibe, but I figured if we’re really going all out, I could give it a shot.”

“Oh no,” Logan muttered, biting his lip.

Virgil snapped his fingers and one set of brushes turned on, the ones positioned in his armpits. The bristles scrubbed away at his underarms and the vibrations on the handles brought a secondary tickling that he didn’t expect into his upper arms. Logan’s eyes flew wide open and he immediately began cackling.

“I know this isn’t one of the worst hotspots for you,” Virgil said conversationally, as if Logan wasn’t beginning to lose his mind next to him, “but it’s still a pretty fun spot, and definitely sensitive enough to drive you crazy. So I figured, why the hell not, you know?”

Logan, obviously, did not reply.

Virgil snapped again and the next set came on. The brushes under his toes started tormenting him once more. No amount of wiggling or scrunching or (failed) attempts at kicking could push them away. Once again, the vibrations in the handles send ticklish shockwaves all through the soles of his feet, only adding to his delightful torture. Logan was certain that the only thing coming out of his mouth at that point were screams.

“Still not quite the worst, but barely in second place. I’d say those toes of yours are getting you pretty good. Wanna call it quits before we get to the real main course?”

Logan stubbornly shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut in his screaming laughter.

“Alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you.~”

A snap, and the two at his hips turned on. The bristles scratched and scrubbed mercilessly at his skin with no escape from the sensation. Squirming did nothing to dislodge them, and bucking only jostled them just enough to renew the sensation and make it worse all over again. The handles buzzed mercilessly at the muscles in the space between hip and thigh, a spot Logan never even knew could tickle so badly. His laughter instantly went silent.

Then, just when Logan had thought that the additions to his torture were over, another set of buzzing bristles touched down against the jumping muscles of his stomach and started skating around through the oil. Logan’s eyes bulged out as he silently screamed. Virgil chuckled lowly near his ear.

The brushes being held down continued to torment him without pause. The brush in Virgil’s hand glided all around his sensitive stomach, occasionally dipping into his belly button to get more of those silent screams. There were tears streaming down Logan’s cheeks and his lungs were protesting the lack of oxygen from all his laughter.

Logan loved tickling, but he couldn’t take much more. He was well and truly broken.

Because of his silent laughter, he couldn’t call out the safe word he and Virgil had decided on at the beginning of the “experiment.” A spike on anxiety shot through him, but he trusted Virgil to be watching him carefully. He squeezed one hand into a tight fist and did his best to rap his knuckles as loudly as he could on the table under him.

It took only two and a half raps before Virgil snapped and everything stopped. Logan gasped for air and let out residual laughter, squirming still from the phantom tickles.

“Are you alright?” Virgil asked, notes of anxiety being poorly concealed in his tone as he wiped Logan’s face of tears

“I’m—I’m fine,” Logan panted.

Virgil nodded worriedly and Logan let his eyes slip shut as his residual laughter and giggles petered out. He could feel Virgil start removing the toothbrushes from his body, slowly and carefully so as to not injure him or tickle him anymore.

“Did you have fun?” Virgil asked carefully.

“Definitely,” Logan breathed.

“Would… would you do it again?”

“Absolutely.” He peeled his eyes open and gave Virgil a wry grin. “Though let’s come up with a non-verbal safeties next time.”

Virgil’s shoulders relaxed and he let out a small laugh. “For sure.”

The last of the toothbrushes came off and Virgil approached Logan with a damp washcloth and a wince. Logan steeled himself and nodded at Virgil to continue. Logan could tell Virgil was trying to be careful while rubbing the oil away, but it still tickled terribly nonetheless. Logan was exhausted and could barely find it in himself to squirm, but he wasn’t complaining.

“Okay?” Virgil asked halfway through.

“Okay,” Logan replies through giggles.

Then, with the oil as gone as it would get without soap so Logan’s texture issues wouldn’t go crazy, Virgil began unbundling his limbs. He gently massaged the places the bindings had been and helped Logan bend any joints that had been stuck in place to get them warmed up again.

Logan slowly sat up with Virgil’s help and accepted the bottle of water that he was handed, drinking it down greedily. Virgil carefully ran a hand through his hair as Logan set the empty bottle aside.

“Naps and cuddles?” Virgil asked quietly.

Logan gave him a tired smile. “What else?”

They sunk back down to Logan’s room as opposed to walking there. Logan quickly changed into some loose sleep pants and an oversized T-shirt and climbed into his bed, where Virgil was already settled.

He cuddled up to Virgil’s chest, letting himself be pulled into a protective embrace. Virgil ran a firm, flat palm up and down his back. Logan relaxed into the touch and sighed.

“You did so well today,” Virgil murmured. “So much willpower, so strong.”

Logan smiled. “You did, too. I know you get anxious when you ler, but you were amazing.” Virgil pulled him closer, started massaging in circles on his back instead of rubbing up and down.

Logan was asleep in minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! Leave a comment or kudos, if you'd like! And come visit me on tumblr at august-anon!


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